The Boys Talk to the Author
by Kathy Knudsen
Summary: Curry and Heyes are not happy with Kate's story lines


THE BOYS TALK TO THE AUTHOR

(published on Facebook 3-4-20)

"Kate, all I'm saying is that out of the fifty-odd five stories you've written in the past two months, I've been hurt, sick, or dying in forty-four of them. It seems only fair that Heyes could get just a little roughed up once in a while instead if me," Kid Curry argued as he leaned over Kate's shoulder and peered at her computer screen.

"See, right there! That's what I mean," Kid said, pointing at a sentence in the third paragraph, and reading aloud. "Kid writhed in pain. Why can't Heyes writhe once in a while?"

"I don't writhe well, Kid," Heyes said, looking up from his cards while seated at a poker table with three nondescript cowboys and one mean looking hombre who had just lost his last dollar to the dark haired man with sultry brown eyes.

"Kid, you may be injury prone, but don't I often give you some love interest, too?" Kate asked and began typing again on her keyboard.

Kid threw his arms up in frustration. "That's another issue. Every time we walk into a saloon, we order a beer and Heyes meanders off to a poker game. I always walk up stairs with some pretty saloon girl... and then it stops! You leave too much to the reader's imagination! If all I'm going to do is walk upstairs, I'd rather stay downstairs and have a second beer."

"So you're saying you want more explicit romance?" Kate asked. "I can type that if you want, Kid."

Kid changed his approach. He smiled and cast his ice blue eyes on the author. He stood behind her, placing a hand on each of her shoulders, Kid leaned in and nibbled on her ear. "I'm just saying, describing the experience with a little sensuality might be a good thing for both of us, if you know what I mean."

Kate smiled and tilted her head, giving him more access to her neck.

"Yea, like that," Kid whispered.

Kid stood up with a start and reached for his gun. "Oh, for crying out loud, Kate, why does there have to be gun shots heard in the street at this very minute!"

"Kid," Heyes said quietly, "Before you head to the window to see what's going on outside, would you mind pointing your gun over this way? This hombre just accused me of cheating at cards and is calling me out,"

"Kate, just have Heyes give the guy his money back. That's one fast draw we can avoid this time," Kid pleaded.

"Only if your shirt is off when you ask me that, Kid," Kate replied.

Kid rolled his eyes, holstered his gun, and rapidly unbuttoned and removed his shirt. "Now, please?" he asked with great annoyance in his voice.

"Heyes, give him back his money," Kate typed as she gazed admiringly at Kid's bare chest.

Heyes handed the hombre his money and then left the poker table and walked over to the author's desk.

"Kid might have some valid points here, Kate," Heyes said. "He does seem to be hurt and naked a lot."

"Thank you," Kid said, appreciating his partner's attempt at support.

"You two have to remember this is the old west," Kate argued. "The only things outlaws had on their minds was holding up banks, stages, and trains, keeping their horses upright so they don't fall off a cliff, taking a weekly bath, getting the girl, outrunning a posse, and healing or dying from injuries.."

"What about amnesty?" Heyes said. "Don't forget amnesty!"

"An elusive subject at best," Kate reminded him.

"Kate, how are Heyes and me ever going to have an intimate relationship if we never get the damn amnesty?" Kid shouted.

A confused look crossed Kate's face. "You two want an intimate relationship?"

"Yes!" the said simultaneously.

"With each other?"

"No! They again shouted simultaneously.

Kate uttered a great sigh of relief. "Thank God. I don't have a clue how to work that into a plausible story line."

"Kate, there were shots fired in the street. How about I put my shirt back on, grab my gun, and go look out the window?" Kid suggested.

"Oh, of course, Kid. Sorry. I got a little distracted," Kate said, typing furiously on the keyboard.

"Looks like it weren't nothing, Heyes. A couple of drunk cowboys out whooping it up. Sheriff's hauling them off to jail. Boy a bath sure sounds good about now, don't you think?...Wait a minute. Kate, take that last thought out of my head right now!" Kid insisted.

With some disappointment, Kate pressed her finger on the backspace key. "There, Kid. Happy now?" she asked.

"Kate," Heyes began. "We understand that after fifty stories, originality starts to become a bit of a challenge, but there really are other emotions besides angst and hurting, and consoling. Why not try your hand at...humor?

"Hmmm... A mistaken identity could be humorous, or ineptness on a cattle drive, maybe a professional lady poker player, or maybe Kid ends up "nekked" in the desert..."

"That's not funny. That's painful," Kid complained.

"You're right," Kate said. "But it would make a good angst story."

"Heyes, what exactly does angst mean anyway?" Kid asked.

"It means deep anxiety or dread, Kid."

"No humor in angst, then?"

"None," Heyes replied.

"Alright, alright," Kate said. "No angst in the next story... but "nekked" is always funny.

Heyes looked at Kid and winced. "She is right, Kid. You're so touchy about being naked that it is funny."

"It's not naked, it's "nekked," Kid countered.

"So how about an inept and "nekked" Kid on a cattle drive is mistaken for... Kyle or Wheat?"

Heyes and Curry exchanged sad and hopeless looks. "Doesn't sound too believable, Kate," Heyes said.

"Or funny," Kid added.

Heyes sighed and looked at Kid. "Maybe we should just keep quiet and let Kate do what she does best, Kid."

Kid frowned. "You mean hurt me don't you Heyes?"

Heyes nodded. "It does seem to be her forte."

Kate smiled triumphantly and turned back to the computer screen. Heyes and Kid leaned in over her shoulders and read the screen as she began to type.

"A shot rang out, and then another. Kid slumped nekked in his saddle..."

"Oh, for crying out loud..."


End file.
